Ribbon of Glass
Part Seven
By Pebbles
pebbles@ukgateway.net
RATING: Over 13?
CONTENT; Romance. Involves Luka, Carter, Abby and a couple of my own characters.
TIMELINE: December 2000 – Spring 2001 but ignoring almost all events of Season 7
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters are the property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, Amblin Television, NBC, Michael Crichton and Constant C Productions. There is no copyright infringement intended. This has been written purely for the enjoyment of ER fans everywhere. I am receiving no monetary compensation for my work. These ideas belong to this author and in no way reflect the values or intentions of the creators and writers of ER.
Sophie O’Neill & Simon Tweedale are my own inventions.
“Everything I possess
Given with tenderness
Wrapped in a ribbon of glass” - Annie Lennox (Cold)
December 13th 8am
Luka woke up on Wednesday morning feeling
strangely energised. He realised with surprise that he had slept all through the night
without waking once – the first time without the help of drugs in years. His rational mind put this down to
all the fresh air and exercise he’d had the day before but a small part of his
consciousness realised that something fundamental had changed. The mental scars were beginning to
fade.
Swinging his legs out of bed he felt a few
unfamiliar aches. He had
walked for miles yesterday. He’d started out at the southern end of Lincoln Park and had then walked
north with the lake on his right and carried on until he eventually ran out of park. The sun was out, bouncing off the
frozen surface of the lake so that he had to screw up his eyes to avoid being dazzled. He breathed in the freezing air like
a drowning man - gulping
it greedily. Reaching the
end of the park he’d turned about and retraced his footsteps south.
All the time he had walked he had indulged in a
seductive daydream. He
didn’t care that it could only be a dream when there was so much pleasure to be had
in it. He had imagined
himself walking with Sophie – her slender fingers entwined in his. As they walked along the shores of
Lake Michigan it gradually became the rugged shore of the Adriatic. He was showing her his homeland
– delighting in introducing her to all its beauty.
He told her about his childhood – pointed out
the harbour where they had moored his first little boat. They sat side by side on the old
stone quay dipping their toes in the warm clear water and he shared his most precious
memories – including the most treasured – the brief lives of his children.
Now they were on another shore. Discovering together the ancient
cities of Italy. Together
they explored the canals of Venice, the museums of Florence. They flew from place to place –
in his fantasy they could defy space and time. He chose his favourite paintings to show to Sophie. One minute they were in Florence and
then Rome, Paris, London then St Petersburg. Monet’s garden at Giverny, Cézanne’s Provencal landscapes and the
wonderful dancers painted by Degas - they stood before them all – sharing their
beauty – always her fingers interlaced with his. He told her why he loved them and she
understood completely. She
loved them too.
Now it was music. Where could he begin? He imagined them drawing up at the
opera house in Milan in an open carriage pulled by white horses – their breath
creating clouds of vapour and their hooves crunching in the snow. She was wrapped in furs –
diamonds at her throat. Together
they sipped champagne and let Verdi’s sweet music invade their souls. He kissed the tears from her cheeks
as the dying Violetta sang of her love for Alfredo.
Felt the weight of her head as she rested it against his chest. Then riding home in the dark –
lying in each other’s arms under the fur coverings... Luka walked faster as his thoughts
turned to the sensual pleasures he dreamt of sharing with Sophie.
Today when he awoke Luka had one thought on his
mind – after he’d had had some breakfast.
My God he was starving – his belly rumbling loudly as he
stood under the shower. He
couldn’t remember when he had last felt this hungry. As the water pummelled his shoulders
he roughed out his plan for the day. Actually there were two things on his mind. First - it was time he went out and
bought himself a CD player. For too long his life had been without music. And then – there were some lines
of poetry, which had hovered at the verges of his conscious mind all the while he was
walking yesterday. He
wanted to find a bookshop – to find that particular piece. So – shopping was the order of
the day – after breakfast.
10.30am
Sophie woke with a start – conscious that she
had overslept. After a
moment of blind panic she realised that she was off today - her second day off in a row. She lay back against the soft pillows
waiting for her heart to stop pounding. All around the outsized bed lay open files and precarious piles of medical
journals. She had no idea
what time she had fallen asleep last night. Her body clock was all shot up what with rotating from days to nights and
back again all in just over a week. No wonder Dr Kovac always looked tired.
After fifteen more minutes of glorious wallowing
under the comforter – Sophie reluctantly dragged herself out. Weaving her way around
the piles of paperwork she made her way to the window and pulled back the drapes. The sun was shining over the lake and
she felt her spirits lift. Her next port of call was the CD player in the lounge. What should it be? Something rousing – something
to fill the empty house. Her
fingers alighted on Prokofiev – Romeo and Juliet Suites – just perfect for
getting the housework and the laundry done!
12.15pm
John Carter poured himself a fresh cup of coffee
from the machine in the lounge. Then he almost wished he hadn’t. The milk in the fridge had disappeared – he suspected the nurses had
finished it off but knew it would be a bad move to complain. If Abby were on he might get away
with it but she had another day off. He grimaced as he knocked it back neat then headed back to the fray.
As he approached the board to sign up for another
patient he noticed Simon Tweedale leaning on the admit desk talking to a couple of the
nurses. Stepping over to
join them he noticed the way the surgical resident leant in close to talk to the pretty
Latino nurse – his eyes locked with hers as if she were the centre of his
universe.
“Hey Tweedale! What brings you down here? I don’t remember calling for a
consult.” Tweedale
immediately switched his attention to John, leaving the nurse feeling suddenly
insignificant.
“Carter!” Tweedale grinned broadly. “Benton’s got me covering
the ER today – thought I’d put my nose in – see if your hiding any –
er – trauma’s from me.” John noticed the surgeon was not giving him his full attention. His eyes kept flitting about from the
board to the hallway and back again.
“No – it’s pretty quiet down here.” He had an idea Tweedale had a different agenda. “So you can go back upstairs.”
“No – that’s not what I meant.” For the first time the almost
permanent smile dropped from his face. “Never mind.” He turned as if to finally go and then changed his mind. “Look Carter – I don’t
mind admitting that I’m interested in her. You – er – don’t know anything about her do you?”
John relented. After all he didn’t really have anything against this young surgeon. “It’ll cost you.” Before Tweedale could respond he added. “You can buy me lunch!”
It had been a long day. Tiring in a different way than his
long hike of the day before. Purchasing a CD player and a selection of discs had been a simple matter. There was a bit of negotiating over
how soon it could be delivered but nothing that his European penchant for bargaining
couldn’t deal with and even enjoy.
The book of poetry had turned out to be a
different matter. He had
been directed from one vast bookstore to another until at last one helpful young clerk
bothered to look up the volume on the store computer. It was out of print. The only hope of finding it would be
to trawl through the multitude of tiny second-hand bookstores in downtown Chicago.
Luka’s first plan – to install himself
comfortably in a bar with his cell phone and a telephone directory came unstuck when it
emerged that very few of these booksellers had any idea what they had on their shelves. He was going to have to put in the
legwork after all. He’d
lost count of the number of little shops he’d scoured with their dusty shelves
groaning with forgotten books. He certainly felt like he’d visited every one in town and the musty
smell still clung to his coat.
Sometimes he’d gotten sidetracked on
discovering a couple of volumes in his native tongue or a guide book to one of the many
European cities he planned to revisit. Consequently he now had a pile of books on the bench beside him tied up in a
bundle with brown hairy string. In his coat pocket though – in the inside breast pocket right next to
his heart – was the tiny volume that he had been searching for all along.
5.30pm
Hearing Abby’s car scrunching to a halt on
the gravel driveway, Sophie rushed to throw open the front door.
“Whoa!
This is some kind of place you’ve got here!” Abby spun around taking in the full
extent of the ranch-like house.
“Come on in – before you get cold!” Now it was dark the temperature was
dropping like a stone. Abby
took one last long look at the floodlit exterior before entering the hallway which was
pretty impressive too, being the full height of the building with two cedar staircases
accessing the upper rooms.
Sophie took Abby’s coat and then led her
through into the vast living room. The floor to ceiling window over-looking the lake was now obscured by heavy
drapes and a log fire was burning in the hearth.
“This is beautiful, Sophie. I never would have believed a place this – er
– big could be so homely.” Abby wandered around the room examining the various objects displayed above
the fireplace and on the low shelving, which extended down the whole length of one wall. Nothing apart from the photographs
particularly reminded her of Sophie.
“It’s mostly my Dad’s stuff in
here. I haven’t got
around to sorting anything out yet.” Sophie watched her friend anxiously as she took it all in.
Abby turned and smiled. “Why change anything – it’s lovely.”
“It sounds like a great plan to me.” There was a moment’s awkward
silence and then Sophie exclaimed.
“Well we’d better get on with the main
business! Come on
upstairs and I’ll show you my closets!” The two girls were soon busy pulling clothes out and trying them on until a
sizeable pile covered the bed. Abby took a liking to a strapless black satin dress, which was elegant in its
simplicity.
“Hmmm.” Sophie frowned as Abby paraded up and down the room. “We would have to take it up a bit. Even with heels you’re in danger of tripping over that hem.” Abby turned around and studied her reflection in the mirror.
“It’s pink!” Abby exclaimed as Sophie returned
with the dress in her arms.
“Just try it on – I think the colour’s
more like a mashed strawberry.” She held it up for Abby to take.
“There isn’t any back!” Abby hesitated. “What’s going to hold it
up?”
“Oh quit complaining and just put it on
– you’ll see!” Sophie grinned remembering her own reaction when her father had bought her
the dress. She’d
indulged him then – as it gave him so much pleasure to try and spoil her but she didn’t
have the figure to really do it justice.
“My God!” Abby breathed out as she saw her
reflection in the mirror. The
crushed velvety material clung to her every curve like a glove only flaring out slightly
at mid-calf. Turning
slightly she could just see her naked back exposed all the way from her shoulders blades
to the upper curve of her buttocks.
“Marilyn Monroe – eat your heart out!” Sophie was thrilled to see that Abby looked as good in it as she had imagined.
7.45pm
Simon Tweedale stamped his feet to try and keep
warm whilst he waited for the El train to arrive. He had only recently been reintroduced to the delights of public
transportation and was extremely unimpressed. He cursed under his breath. If only that damn garage hadn’t sold him such a crock of shit then he
wouldn’t have run up such a huge repair bill. To add insult to injury they had gone and repossessed the car from the
hospital parking garage so that half the hospital knew about it.
As the train approached at last his mood picked up
a bit. He recalled his
earlier conversation with John Carter. He had been surprisingly forthcoming in the end and Simon had taken copious
mental notes. Perhaps
there was a God after all. It certainly seemed that his prayers had been answered. Not only was Sophie pretty – in
fact beautiful would be a more accurate description – she was also outrageously rich. She was perfect.
11pm
Luka lay on top of the still made up bed, his knees drawn up and his head resting on his bended arm. In his other hand he held open a small leather bound book – it’s pages yellow with age. The pillow beneath his head was just slightly damp. He had been reading for over an hour and had soon found the piece that had been playing on his mind. The first time he read it through huge salty tears welled up in his eyes – distorting his vision until they escaped down his cheeks and into the pillow.
End of part 7